


Take Me Out (To the Ball Game)

by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Bad Flirting, Baseball, Baseball Idiots, Ensemble Cast, Everyone Is Alive, M/M, Oblivious Derek, Pining, Swearing, Temper Tantrums, Undrafted AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/HaleHathNoFury
Summary: The Beacon Hills Wolves summer league baseball team is about to play their semi-final games that will take them into the league finals. It's hot, everyone's sweaty and bad tempered and Stiles is desperate to make Derek realise that the person he's looking for is right under his nose. Maybe if he hits a home run, he can get Derek to look at him twice and maybe take him home.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 26
Kudos: 47
Collections: Fandom Cares





	1. It's Too Damn Hot

**Author's Note:**

> I love, love, love Undrafted and thought this would be the perfect gift for Jeip. Thank you for supporting BLM!!!!!!

‘Shit.’ Scott glared at the field like it had personally set out to make his life a living hell. ‘Did the groundskeeper even come?’

‘Don’t know.’ Next to him Stiles grinned. He had a hard time taking very much seriously, community baseball included, and found Scott’s pissy attitude hilarious. It had been that way ever since they’d met in elementary school,one lonely kid who’d lost his mom a year before and another whose mom had remarried and moved to a new town in search of a better life. ‘Does it even matter?’

Scott turned the stink eye on him, his whole face a perfect picture of impending coronary distress. 

‘And he left in a vintage 1945 snit.’ Stiles muttered when Scott got out and slammed Roscoe’s passenger door so hard it nearly came off. ‘Hey watch the paintwork, asshole!’

He watched Scott pace, phone to his ear and the other hand waving as he launched into a tirade. It wouldn’t make any difference. Finstock wouldn’t be back, not on such a fine day as this. He’d be at home drinking beer and watching real players on TV. Hell, Stiles would have done the same if this wasn’t the semi-final game before moving on to the finals. The Wolves had done better than they ever had and he tried not to take that too personally, because he’d been gone for pretty much the entire season at Berkeley, one of the few in their small Northern California town that had made it out. 

Of course, the other reason he’d not come back since before Christmas had been that his long term and completely unattainable crush had been planning to ask his girlfriend to marry him on Christmas Day and that was something Stiles had not been able to deal with. It was also something he’d kept carefully under wraps. The only person who knew was Lydia and she’d been sworn to secrecy. Not even Scott was aware of how Stiles felt and what with Derek being Scott’s step-brother, it was just as well because the amount of awkwardness that would cause would be even more off the charts than normal. 

But then the unthinkable happened and Braeden got offered the job of a lifetime, working for some big security consultancy company, which had meant a move and leaving Beacon Hills. Like all the Hales, Derek worked for his family company, a small specialist bookstore dealing in rare volumes. He loved his job and Stiles knew that nothing could have dragged him away from it, even the promise of true love. Not that he’d ever thought what Braeden and Derek had had was that. They were far too different for it to ever work, in his opinion. Derek had apparently baulked, not wanting to leave his family, so she’d given him back his ring, packed up her Italian boots and her motorbike and left him in the dust, as it were. That had been in February and he’d been surly and miserable and Scott had complained about him so much that Stiles had finally gotten up the courage to come back and see if he could make him smile again. 

He heard the Camaro before he saw it, the deep growl that was not unlike the noise Derek made when something pissed him off. He peeked in the rear view mirror and saw the gleaming black car, Derek’s only real indulgence, pulling onto the sandy bank that overlooked the field. There was music blaring from inside, something bass heavy that Derek and Boyd both liked. He could just see Isaac crammed into the back seat and grinned, opening his own door and getting out to bound over to the car and tap on the plastic tarp masquerading as a window. 

Derek startled and turned, his green eyes narrowed as he glared at Stiles.

‘What do you want?’ he asked, his voice drowned out by the music and Stiles beamed at him and mimed rolling his window down. Derek rolled his eyes in spectacular fashion because the window in the side was gone as a result of a confrontation with Chris Argent, who had the dubious pleasure of being the brother to one of Derek’s more insane exes and father to Scott’s first girlfriend, who he’d gotten more than a little obsessed with until they’d broken up and she’d fucked off to France and the Sorbonne for college. He huffed and threw the door open, making Stiles jump back and wag a finger at him. 

‘Temper, temper Sourwolf.’ he snickered and Derek bared his teeth at him. 

‘I hate you.’ he muttered and next to him Boyd chuckled. 

‘Hey Stiles.’ he said. ‘You back for the game?’

‘Scott begged me.’ Stiles leaned in, trying desperately to be cool in the face of Derek’s aftershave and perfect stubble. ‘And you know when he whines, I’m kind of bound to make him shut up. Best friend duties and all that. You should know.’ He winked at Boyd, seeing how he hid a smile. Boyd had been Derek’s best friend as long as Stiles had been Scott’s. 

‘Sure.’ Derek was as dry as a whole bottle of vermouth. He shoved Stiles back to give him room to get out and Stiles made a show of clutching at himself and staggering. 

‘So strong.’ he gasped, flinging himself against Roscoe. ‘So manly.’

‘Shut up, Stiles.’ Derek snapped, but there was a gleam in his eye and a twitch at the corners of his mouth that belied his tone and Stiles threw up his arms in victory. 

‘Success!’ he bellowed, sending a small flock of birds into the sky from the tree next to them. ‘I have made the Sourwolf smile!’ 

‘You did no such thing. I’m just embarrassed for you.’ Derek grabbed his glove from Isaac, holding the seat forward for him to scramble out. It was a fascinating process, kind of like seeing a daddy-long-legs easing out of an unfeasibly small crack. 

‘Hi Isaac.’ Stiles crooned, getting an unimpressed face. Isaac had joined Derek and Boyd in freshman year of high school, another refugee from a shitty childhood. He’d lived with his big brother Camden, who was now engaged to Derek’s older sister Laura. The whole thing was all very incestuous and if Stiles had his way, it was only going to get worse. 

‘Stiles.’ Isaac replied, his glare matching Derek’s almost perfectly. In high school the three of them had terrified the general cohort with their leather jackets and complete lack of social skills and they were still as thick as thieves, along with Boyd’s girlfriend Erica. She’d been in the same year as Stiles, a mousy little thing until her epilepsy medication had been changed for a new experimental drug and she’d undergone a truly frightening metamorphosis into the blonde goddess she was today. Stiles couldn’t wait for her and Boyd to have babies because they would be both gorgeous and malevolent in equal parts and he wanted to teach them all the bad things that a cool uncle-by-association would. 

‘Where are the gals?’ he asked Boyd and got a shrug. 

‘Something about shopping, day drinking and then they’re coming to watch the game.’ he replied. ‘Although Erica’s still on probation for biting the umpire last time. Your dad is giving her special leave because it’s the semi-final.’ 

‘She’s almost as bad as Liam.’ Stiles grinned. Liam was their youngest player and had the worst anger management issues any of them had ever seen. 

‘She’s worse.’ Isaac grumbled, pulling up the left sleeve of his shirt to reveal a massive bruise. ‘She gave me a dead arm last night because I told her that if she went off again today, we’d lock her in the cage.’

‘Damn.’ Stiles inspected the bruise, whistling through his teeth. ‘She should be our starting pitcher. Just saying.’ 

‘I don’t know.’ Boyd said. ‘Mason’s been doing a great job.’ His dark eyes flicked to Scott. ‘Although it’s probably better not to say that out loud.’ 

Stiles sighed. Scott’s control issues were well known and he had always been their pitcher, right up until a torn rotator cuff had put paid to that. Now pitching duties were divided between Jackson and Mason, another of the high school hangers on who’d simply been subsumed into the team along with his boyfriend Corey, who played shortstop. 

‘Where are the junior woodchucks anyway?’ he asked, moving to stand next to Derek, who was checking out the field. 

‘Late as usual.’ Derek replied without looking at him. ‘Did the groundskeeper come?’

‘No idea.’ Stiles took a moment to admire his perfect profile and have dreamy thoughts about how good Derek looked in red. ‘Jackson?’

‘He was dropping Danny off at the airport.’ Isaac said. ‘He’s going to Hawaii for his grandmother’s ninetieth birthday. They’re in a fight because he wanted Jackson to go with, and Jackson said he couldn’t miss the game.’ 

‘Oops.’ Stiles made a sympathetic face, still discreetly eyeing Derek. He was so handsome, his features almost perfect apart from his dumbass bunny teeth that Stiles loved beyond all reason. He loved everything about Derek - the reverence with which he held old books and small animals, his passionate defence of shitty monster movies, his kindness to his sisters and his unwavering loyalty to his friends. Sure he was surly and grumpy and hard to love sometimes because he was easily hurt and counteracted that by building walls a thousand miles high but Stiles had always loved a challenge, especially when the payoff was as monumental as getting Derek Hale to love him. 

‘Fuck!’ Scott roared behind them and hurled his mitt into the grass, stamping his feet like a toddler having a tantrum. 

‘Guess the groundskeeper didn’t make it after all.’ Boyd observed, completely deadpan as he took the equipment bag from Derek’s trunk, and Stiles snickered again. He whacked his own mitt into Derek’s ridiculously muscular chest. 

‘Are you on aneurysm duty today?’ he asked. ‘Because Scott looks like he’s about to have one.’ 

‘No.’ Derek looked at him, one thick eyebrow raised. ‘That’s why your skinny ass is here.’ Then he swung his mitt in a deadly arc down and Stiles had to knock both knees together in defence. ‘Cup check!’ 

‘You dick.’ he wheezed, his balls in agony. ‘You’re lucky you’re pretty.’ 

Derek just snorted a laugh and left him to grab onto Isaac’s arm for support. Isaac did a remarkable copy of Derek’s eye roll and hauled him upright so they could make their way down through the trees to the field. It was dry and crumbly and there were a couple of ungraceful slides, including a wonderful moment of Derek actually pinwheeling to stay on his feet and another where Isaac actually landed on his lanky ass, before they made it to the dugout. 

‘Right.’ Scott already had his clipboard out. ‘I’ve reviewed the lineup because Stiles is back for this one, so I’m dropping Isaac to number two and making Stiles the leadoff. That means Boyd stays in three and Derek in number 4. I will take five and the others can filter in down the lineup.’ 

He made it sound like a great sacrifice, which had them all grinning. Scott usually put himself in number two, not necessarily a good thing because he’d gotten slower as age caught up with him, although he wasn’t as hopeless as Corey and Jackson, who they hid in seventh and eight. Liam went in at sixth, largely because he was extremely unpredictable and could either have a day of extreme brilliance or striking out so badly he was livid and couldn’t be spoken to for at least four hours after the game. 

They all took a seat along the wall, Stiles falling down next to Derek, while they watched Scott inspect the field, yelling as he went. He elbowed him and Derek sighed like he was being tortured. 

‘What?’ he asked again and Stiles waggled his eyebrows at him. 

‘So I heard that you’re a free man.’ he said and Derek made that angry growling noise of his. 

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ he hissed. 

‘Shocker.’ Boyd deadpanned and then fistbumped a smirking Isaac. 

‘Fuck off.’ Derek snorted. ‘I’m never getting involved with anyone again. I’m done.’ 

Stiles had to admit that Derek hadn’t had the best of luck. Paige, his high school girlfriend had had a car accident and the subsequent head injury had caused amnesia. She’d left town with her family a month later. Kate had been older and gorgeous but also massively unstable. When Derek had broken it off because she was trying to drive a wedge between him and his family, she’d tried to burn his house down. Unfortunately it had contained all the hales at the time and she’d been caught red-handed and sent to county jail, where she was making license plates by all accounts. After that had been the high school English teacher, Jennifer Blake. However, it turned out that Jennifer Blake was not her real name and that she was also already married to a very possessive and terrifying woman named Kali Baccari. He’d been single throughout college after that, until he met Braeden at a bar and they’d hooked up. That had been a whirlwind romance of all of a year, Derek so smitten he’d gone out and bought the ring that had made Stiles cry into several pints of Ben and Jerry’s for three months. 

‘You’re right.’ Isaac said. ‘It’s been a dumpster fire.’ 

‘Thanks.’ Derek glared at him. ‘Tell me why I’m letting you date Cora again?’

You don’t let Cora do anything.’ Isaac pointed out. ‘She’d kick your ass.’

That was also true. The Hale sisters were terrifying. Stiles still had nightmares about being terrorised by a tiny Cora when he’d first started hanging out with Scott. Melissa and Talia were both very strong, opinionated women and it showed. 

‘Maybe you don’t need to give up altogether.’ he ventured. ‘Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong place.’ 

Now it was his turn to be glared at. Derek’s one and only boyfriend, who was also one of Noah Stilinski’s deputies, was the only person who was normal and emotionally capable of having an actual relationship. Unfortunately, it simply hadn’t worked out and they’d parted amicably. He was now dating Lydia of all people and they seemed very happy. 

‘If you’re trying to say that I shouldn’t have broken up with Jordan, I will rip your throat out with my teeth.’ Derek said. ‘I have enough of the woulda-coulda-shoulda bullshit from our mothers.’ 

‘Noooooo.’ Stiles hedged. ‘I’m just saying that the only relationship you’ve had that could even remotely be classed as not a dumpster fire was with him. Maybe you need to expand your horizons and find another dude. You know, one who’s available and who won’t try and either kill or defraud you.’ 

‘He’s got a point.’ Boyd said and even Isaac was making a considering face. ‘Jordan was the only one I didn’t hate.’ 

‘Thanks.’ Derek looked murderous. ‘Again.’ 

They all looked towards the slopes at the sound of more cars. A couple of high pitched shrieks and the excited scrambling of what sounded like a bunch of puppies sounded the arrival of the three youngest members of their team. They bounded in, or at least Mason and Corey did, dragging a morose looking Liam between them. 

‘Oh fuck.’ Derek took off his cap and ran a hand through his sweaty hair so it stuck up in all directions. ‘What happened?’

‘Hayden broke up with him again.’ Mason explained, steering Liam to the bench and shaving him down onto it. ‘He’s crabby.’

‘He’s always crabby.’ Boyd grumbled, leaning forward to eyeball Liam. ‘Are we going to have a replay of senior year?’

‘No.’ Liam was sullen, arms folded and lower lip jutting out

‘That means yes.’ Isaac huffed and leaned back against the wall. ‘The middle order is fucked.’ 

‘Okay.’ Scott came back into the dugout, slapping the clipboard a little maniacally. ‘I need everyone to stretch.’ 

‘Stretch?’ Liam hissed. ‘I’m too upset to stretch!’

Scott glanced at Stiles, who shook his head. An angry Liam could never be reasoned with. 

‘Okay.’ He looked thrown but soldiered on. ‘Where’s Jackson?’ He blew air out of his nose, working himself back up again. ‘He’s always fucking late!’

‘In his defence, traffic is murder today.’ Mason pointed out. And he’s dropping Danny off.’ He made a face. ‘Oh shit, we have two of them.’ 

‘Crap.’ Scott frowned at his clipboard. ‘Do you think we could ask Kira and Malia to come help us out?’

‘No.’ Derek said. ‘They’re at the softball league fundraiser today.’ His cousin and her girlfriend were every bit as obsessed and regularly practiced with them. 

‘Goddammit!’ Scott yelled, the clipboard coming perilously close to being thrown across the dubout. He stopped when the sound of Jackson’s Porsche, driven at typically high speeds, reached their ears. ‘Finally!’

They all watched as Jackson got out, phone to his ear just like Scott had been and still in his suit. 

‘How?’ Stiles asked no-one in particular. ‘It’s Saturday.’ 

‘I think he might actually sleep in it.’ Boyd said. Jackson had followed his adopted father and biological father into law and was always immaculately dressed. Just like the rest of the Hales, even though he was also a Whittemore, he was disgustingly hot and Stiles had unashamedly jerked off to his moody face during high school, on the odd occasion. Not a patch on Derek though and Stiles also didn’t have the urge to marry him and spend the rest of his life coaxing out that glorious and rare sunshine smile. 

Damn, he had it bad.

‘Hi.’ Jackson came into the dugout, stripping as he went. ‘Sorry, I had to drop Danny off.’

‘We know.’ Derek said. ‘Is he speaking to you?’

‘If you count obscene hand gestures as speaking.’ Jackson grumbled, kicking off his shoes. 

‘Did you at least fuck before he got on the plane?’ Stiles cackled and Jackson gave him a withering look. 

‘Of course we did.’ He said it like Stiles was an idiot for even suggesting otherwise. ‘It’s tradition.’ 

‘Tradition.’ Boyd grinned and Derek actually chuckled at that one. Stiles wished he could get him to laugh. Derek was absolutely beautiful when he laughed. 

‘Enough!’ Scott barked. ‘We need to get our game plan in order.’ 

Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes. 

‘Wake me when he’s done.’ Boyd said, pulling his cap over his eyes and Stiles snickered and bumped shoulders with Derek, delighted when he got a ghost of a smile.


	2. Get Ready to Play Ball

‘God, he’s a dick.’ Scott muttered, giving Theo a death glare through the dugout wire. Next to him, Stiles snorted. 

‘I told you not to trust him, didn’t I?’ He elbowed Scott hard to make his point. ‘Told you it was too good to be true, but no you knew better. Theo was a stand up guy, a real asset to the team.’ 

‘Asshole more like.’ Derek muttered behind him and Stiles gave him a delighted look and a thumb’s up. 

‘Nice one, big guy.’ He turned back to Scott. ‘Now he knows all our weaknesses and our gameplay and you gave it all to him on a silver platter.’ 

Scott did have the grace to look sheepish, but it had been a long road. Stiles would be the first to admit that when he’d heard about Theo turning up in town and sliding right into his very recently vacated position in the team, he’d been riddled with jealousy and that had of course manifested itself as a deep and abiding suspicion. Rightly so, because Theo had stayed for one season and then fucked off, only to turn up at the next game playing for their arch enemies, the Valeck Coyotes. Now the slimy fucker was grinning at them from the opposing dugout and Stiles was feeling an urge to go and slap the knowing smirk off his face. 

‘We all told him that.’ Boyd was giving Scott a deeply judgemental look. ‘He didn’t listen to us.’ 

‘Spies everywhere.’ Isaac hissed and even his hero-worship of Scott didn’t stop him from being pissy about it. 

‘I really don’t like him.’ Jackson was glaring at Theo, now doing his whole team spirit speech thing he did. ‘Nobody who pops their collar should be trusted.’ 

‘Um, don’t you pop your collar?’ Corey asked, confused and Jackson rolled his eyes at him. 

‘Yes!’ He slapped Corey around the back of his head. ‘That’s why I know we’re not to be trusted!’

Stiles laughed at them and went to sit back down. 

‘We do have one advantage.’ Derek said to him. 

‘Oh and what’s that?’ he asked. ‘Because judging from the ringers that arrived on that bus with him I’m thinking we’re pretty much screwed, amigo.’ Theo had turned up with a completely different team from their previous game, most of whom looked like they’d been manufactured in a secret NBA lab somewhere. While not entirely against the very convoluted rules of summer league ball, it was widely considered to be a dick move. Then again Theo’s entire raison d’etre seemed to be being a dick, so one couldn’t really blame him for playing to type. 

‘You.’ Derek said and Stiles blinked in surprise. 

‘How so?’ he asked, secretly thrilled that Derek considered him to be some kind of secret weapon. 

‘They have no idea how you play.’ Derek replied. ‘Hell, we don’t even know how you play. Just when we all think we’ve got your batting figured out, you do something completely different and throw us all off. Right now, that’s fucking gold to us.’

‘Hmmmm.’ Stiles eyeballed him. ‘That doesn’t sound as complimentary as I thought it would be.’

‘No, he’s right.’ Scott looked like a death row prisoner that had just gotten an eleventh hour reprieve. ‘Theo knows nothing about you.’

‘Oh shit.’ Mason said. He and Liam were at the fence, fingers clinging on as they watched the opposing team going through their warm ups. ‘These guys are pros. I mean look at him. I’m pretty sure that’s Josh Diaz. He’s being groomed by the Blue Jays.’

‘And that’s Donovan Donati.’ Liam looked back at them with panic on his face. ‘He’s a starting pitcher for UCSF. He’s going to annihilate us.’ 

‘Fuck me.’ Derek was up at the fence now, his eyes narrowed as he checked them out. ‘How much money do you think they paid them to show up.’

‘A lot.’ Scott muttered. ‘Theo has all his insurance money. I bet it’s gone into this.’

‘Am I the only one that thinks he bumped off his parents.’ Boyd muttered and then made a ‘what’ gesture when they all turned to look at him. ‘Like I’m the only one who thinks that.’

‘Why though?’ Stiles was intrigued, in spite of himself. He jingled the chain link, thinking. ‘I mean summer league baseball is not exactly worth dying for.’

‘It’s because we didn’t like him.’ Jackson said. ‘He knew it, even if Scott was too busy trying to crawl up his ass to notice how we never spoke to him.’ 

‘Jesus.’ Scott thumped his head against the fence. ‘They’re going to kick the shit out of us.’ 

‘No, they’re not.’ Stiles patted him on the shoulder. ‘Just because we’re shit doesn’t mean we go down without a fight.’ 

‘He’s right.’ Derek was starting to get that crazy gleam in his eye that told Stiles he was about to throw down. ‘We can’t let them walk over us. That finals place is ours. We fucking earned it.’ 

‘Amen.’ Boyd said and got up. ‘We’ve just got to show them what we’re made of.’ He came to drape an arm over Derek’s shoulders and grinned at Scott in a distinctly disturbing way. ‘So what’s the plan?’

‘Yeah.’ Isaac wriggled his way in between Derek and Stiles, giving Stiles his best evil grin. ‘Please tell me it’s using Stiles for bait.’ 

‘Oh ha fucking ha.’ Stiles snorted and then looked at Scott. ‘Dude. Tell me it’s not.’ 

-

It was. 

-

Noah Stilinski took his regular seat and accepted the beer his usual companion handed him.

‘That’s not the same team as last time.’ he observed and Peter Hale made a face and took a swig of his own beer. On his other side, David Geyer heaved a sigh. The three of them made up the older baseball watching contingent along with Kylin Hewitt and Vernon Boyd Jr., who were both yet to put in an appearance. They had all been Wolves once upon a time and had fond memories of summer baseball and the sound of ash smacking the hell out of leather and the tardiness of the dugout.

‘Those assholes from Valeck have filled up the team with ringers.’ He looked equal parts annoyed and amused. ‘I’m amazed Scott hasn’t had a coronary yet the way he’s been stomping around the dugout. He’s managing to make Liam look restrained.’ 

‘I knew that boy would be nothing but trouble.’ Noah sat back, elbow up on the back of the bench. ‘Bad apple.’ 

‘Amen.’ David looked past them, lifting his cap to run a hand over his bald head. ‘Here’s the rest of the motley crew.’ 

Khylin and Vernon were making their way through the gathering crowds, smiling in greeting. Vernon was just an older version of Boyd, his huge profile blocking out the sun when he reached them. Khylin was shorter and the spitting image of his son, although his hair was turning silver. They had a coolbox that they set down between them, grabbing their own beers and peering at the field. 

‘That’s not…’ Khylin started and they all nodded. 

‘Those assholes have brought in ringers.’ Peter muttered. ‘Derek must be pissed. He told Scott that Theo was a bad idea.’

‘They all told Scott Theo was a bad idea.’ David replied. ‘I thought Liam was going to brain him with a bat more than once.’ 

‘He probably should have.’ Vernon said dryly and they all nodded agreement and gave the Coyotes their best disapproving father looks. 

-

The officials arrived and Scott straightened his shirt and took his cap off, running fingers through his floppy hair in a vain attempt to neaten it. 

‘All right.’ he declared. ‘Let’s go show them what’s what.’ 

Stiles glanced at Derek behind his back, both of them grinning as they followed Scott out to meet the umpire and do the coin toss. He was a portly older man, his cap on backwards and a resigned look on his face. Theo approached from the other side with Matt Daehler and another of his little sidekicks in tow. Stiles could never remember his name but he knew his face and hated him on principle for being a Coyote. 

They lined up and Stiles gave Theo his best shit-eating grin when he saw Theo clock him. He clearly hadn’t been expecting to see him. 

‘Okay.’ The umpire consulted his own clipboard. ‘This is the semi-final of the Beacon County Summer Baseball League. Facing off are the Beacon Hills Wolves and the Valeck Coyotes.’ He eyeballed them all and sniggered. ‘Y’all are really into your animal names, huh?’

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles grinned. Scott glared at the umpire and Theo like he was hoping to set them alight through sheer willpower alone. 

‘Before we start, I want to lodge an objection!’ he hissed. ‘That is not the same goddamn team you played with last time.’

Theo smirked. 

‘Check the bylaws, McCall.’ he retorted. ‘I haven’t done a single thing that could be classed as against the rules. Every player I’ve got with me is not only official, but ready to kick every mangy loser you got right in the balls.’

Stiles winced as Scott went red in the face, completely apoplectic. 

‘You a cheat and an asshole.’ He jabbed his finger at Theo. ‘You’re going down.’

‘Isn’t that his job.’ Theo gave Stiles a shit-eating grin. ‘I mean everyone knows how codependent you two morons are.’ 

‘Hey! You best shut your mouth before I shut it for you.’ It was Derek’s turn to bite and Stiles was surprised to see Theo actually blink. Derek was quiet but it was the kind of quiet you got just before the storm hit and nobody picked on his little step-brother, even if they had spent nearly the entirety of their adolescence hating each other. 

‘Okay.’ The umpire stepped between them, hands up. ‘Save it for the game, gentlemen. Coyotes bat first and I want a nice clean game.’ He waited expectantly for the to shake hands and then frowned when both Scott and Theo walked away, Scott with considerably more foot stamping and Theo with his smarmy grin still plastered on his face. Matt trotted after him like an obedient puppy. The last Coyote looked a little shame faced at his captain’s behaviour but followed and left Stiles sniggering at the umpire. 

‘I hope you brought some sand bags.’ he told him. ‘This is going to be worse than Guadalcanal.’

-

Lydia pulled up and parked. Next to her, Erica checked her lipstick in the mirror and opened the door on her side. She eased herself out dangerously on her six inch heels and Lydia had to hand it to her. Even she didn’t take a chance out there, watching as Erica listed like a tanker in a storm on the uneven ground. Behind her, Cora and Laura were arguing about whose turn it was to set Derek up with a new blind date. 

‘Maybe you should just lay off him for a while.’ Erica said and they both turned narrowed eyes on her. Lydia stifled a laugh. The Hale glare was practically genetic. 

‘I think we know what’s best for our brother, Erica.’ Laura retorted. ‘He’s got to get back on the horse.’

‘Yeah, but the horses you keep choosing are duds.’ Erica liberated a shiny red apple from her purse and took a huge bite out of it. 

‘We’ve had a few missteps.’ Cora admitted. ‘But this time we have the perfect person.’ 

‘I fail to see how shoving Derek right back into a relationship is going to help.’ Erica said with her mouth full. Lydia took her arm and steered her towards the field. 

‘Because it will stop him being such a fucking grouch.’ Laura explained. ‘He’s been insufferable.’

‘He has.’ Cora muttered. ‘At least getting laid will take his mind off of things.’ 

Lydia sighed. One Hale sibling was as oblivious as another.

‘It won’t.’ she said. ‘It will just piss him off and then he’ll murder both of you and I’ll have to help him hide the bodies. No, if you want Derek back to being his usual surly self, I suggest you let nature take its course.’ 

‘What nature?’ Laura was eying her suspiciously. ‘What do you know that we don’t?’

‘Oh nothing.’ Lydia smiled to herself. She had a plan up her sleeve to do with her best friend and the man he’d been crushing on forever. She just needed an opportune moment to execute it. 

-

‘Okay so we’ve got Liam at centre field, Stiles in right field and Boyd in left.’ Scott squinted at his clipboard. ‘Jackson, you’re back at third, Derek on second and I’ll take first.’ 

‘We know, Scott.’ Stiles grinned. ‘Our line up hasn’t changed since the last time I was here.’ 

‘Theo was shit at right field.’ Corey was giving the opposite dugout the stink eye. 

‘That’s because Theo is a shithead.’ Derek was smirking and Stiles wanted to kiss it right off his face. 

‘Amen to that.’ Boyd added and then perked up. Stiles followed his line of sight and saw Erica, Lydia and the Hale sisters taking their seats behind the fence. 

‘Hey.’ He elbowed Derek gently. ‘The hellions are here.’ 

‘So I see.’ Derek was slumping down in his seat. ‘They’re pissed at me.’ 

‘Why?’ Stiles frowned. ‘What did you so?’

‘They’ve been setting Derek up with every single friend they’ve got.’ Isaac sniggered. ‘There’s been some real doozies.’ 

‘Jesus fuck.’ Derek was practically sliding off the bench. ‘The last one was terrifying.’ 

‘She was.’ Boyd laughed, waving at Erica. ‘Then again, you date a girl who instagrams her toilet breaks and that’s what you get.’ 

‘She was pretty though.’ Jackson offered. ‘I think they thought you’d like that.’ 

‘She was a vapid fucking airhead.’ Derek snarled. ‘She didn’t even know who Tolkien was. And she was blonde. I hate blondes.’ 

‘Heaven forbid.’ Stiles grinned at him. ‘And you better not let Erica hear you say that.’

‘Erica doesn’t count.’ Derek was mutinous. ‘She’s basically another sister at this point.’

Stiles tried to contain his little flutter of excitement. 

‘I’m not blonde.’ He said it under his breath and then froze when he saw Derek looking at him, eyebrow raised. 

‘What?’ He looked expectant and Stiles went red. 

‘Nothing.’ he replied. Thankfully, Scott chose that moment to do his Winston Churchill thing about mounds and fields and Great American Pastimes and they all glazed over. When he was done, they all bounced up and out their hands in, before jogging out to the field. 

Stiles took his time getting to right field. He liked playing there because it meant he got to run and also because he could ogle Derek at second base without any impediments to his view. The stands were filling up and he caught sight of his dad, sitting with the other older Wolves. Noah waved at him and he raised his mitt in greeting. 

Derek was avoiding looking at his sisters and it tickled Stiles immensely how good he was at it. Derek had always been one for avoidance when he disliked something. Stiles had been one of the few people he actually tolerated to be around him for extended periods of time, something that had done nothing for Stiles’ crush. 

The ball got thrown a few rounds, smacking into mitts with a very satisfying noise. Stiles caught it when it came his way and threw it to Derek, who swiped it right out of the air like it was instinct before sending it back to Mason. He’d played varsity the whole way through high school and then gone to college on it too. They had thought he might make it the whole way, but then he’d busted his knee. Stiles had always had the sneaking suspicion though that Derek could have taken or left it. He loved his books too much to be anything but what he was but damn if he wasn’t a pleasure to watch on the field. He loped around the field gracefully, threw the ball with an astonishing amount of power and accuracy and watching him bat was like watching Yoyo Ma play Bach, it was so goddamn beautiful. 

Stiles was so busy smiling dreamily in his direction that he didn’t notice Liam throwing the ball at him and then shrieked when it smacked him the side. He heard laughter from the dugout and flushed, angrily hurling it back and smiling when Liam swore as it went over his head. 

‘What the hell, Stiles?’ Scott bellowed from first. ‘Get your head in the game.’ 

Stiles decided acting like an adult was overrated and stuck his tongue out at him. That got a soft snort of laughter from Derek and Stiles was all smiles again. 

-

‘God, Stiles is out of it.’ Cora said, cracking a soda and slurping the foam off the top. ‘He didn’t even see that ball.’ 

‘That’s because he was too busy staring at Derek’s ass.’ Lydia said and waited for the pennies to drop, smiling beatifically when they did. 

‘What?’ Laura sounded scandalised. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘I’m talking about the fact that you are ridiculously unobservant.’ Lydia said. ‘Stiles has been in love with your brother since freshman year.’

‘Bullshit.’ Cora was gaping at her. ‘We would have noticed.’ 

‘No you wouldn’t.’ Lydia replied. ‘Remember when you thought Isaac ‘just wanted to be friends’?

‘That’s true actually.’ Erica looked thoughtful. ‘He did hightail it out of town kind of quick last time.’ She gave Lydia a curious look. ‘Braeden?’

‘Braeden.’ Lydia confirmed. ‘But now she’s out of the picture and I’ve had it up to my goddamn eyeballs listening to Stiles snivel about how he’ll never get Derek to love him. So I have decided that someone, and by that I mean me, needs to slam their thick skulls together and get them to see that they are perfect for each other.’

‘That will only work if Derek’s into it.’ Laura had a finger held up. ‘Fly meet ointment.’ 

‘I know that.’ Lydia turned back to watch the first pitch. ‘That’s why I have a plan.’


	3. Hey Batter!

Stiles watched as Mason wound up, his lithe form twisting beautifully as he pitched. The ball sped through the air, eluding the batter completely and thwacking into Isaac’s glove with a very satisfying noise. 

‘Strike!’ the umpire bellowed and Mason threw the opposing dugout a cocky grin and then proceeded to strike out their number two with devastating efficiency. 

‘Yisssss!’ Corey was ecstatic. ‘That’s my man right there.’

Stiles chuckled. Their devotion to each other was adorable, the muttered slurs from the Coyotes aside. They bounced off Mason and Corey’s backs anyway and it was funny to watch the Coyotes do their stupid little chants and try to get under the pair’s skins. They had both been out the whole way through high school and Stiles knew nothing could compare to the gauntlet they had run at Beacon High. Even with a few high profile students sliding down odd sides of the Kinsey scale, every school had its assholes. He’d run into them when he’d come out not long after Danny and Jackson and then Derek had followed a few weeks later after he’d caught Stiles being cornered by some of the football team. Having the captain of the basketball and baseball team stick up for Stiles’ bisexual freshman ass by being open about his own bisexual ass had made things a lot easier, but he’d been long graduated by the time Mason and Corey had arrived. 

‘Hey Theo!’ Scott was clearly pissed. ‘You want to get your players to tone down the homophobia, maybe?’ 

Stiles smiled. Scott may have been the straightest man alive but he was also the most honourable and played the game with every intention of making sure that gentlemen’s rules were in effect. 

‘Fuck you, McCall.’ Theo called back easily. ‘We do what we want.’

Scott fumed and Stiles decided that Theo needed to get taken down a few pegs. He made a mental note to tell Mason to aim for his balls. 

The fourth player got a hit off Mason and the ball came sailing over Derek’s head towards the outfield. Liam scrambled back, yelling ‘Got it!’ and then tripped over his own ass and missed it completely. Boyd was thankfully already on it (Liam was clumsy to a fault. He’d once fallen down an actual hole and had to be rescued.) and his massive strength shot the ball to Derek just as the runner made it to second, sliding in in a cloud of dust. 

‘Safe!’ The call made Scott pace angrily but Derek threw him a look and he calmed down. The same couldn’t be said for Liam, who was starting to mutter. Derek caught Stiles’ eye and raised an eyebrow in Liam’s direction and Stiles crinkled his nose in reply. He knew he’d have to keep an eye on him so that he didn’t snap. 

‘Hey Liam.’ He tried for soothing. ‘You okay there?’

Liam gave him both fingers, impressive as one was concealed by his mitt. 

‘Okay then.’ Stiles nodded and got ready for the next batter to step up. 

The first half ended with two points on the board. Both Derek and Boyd had taken catches and Mason’s strikeout rate was looking good. Stiles was pretty sure that boy would be headed for the draft come college. 

They switched out and waited in the dugout for the Coyotes to take the field. They lined the bench and Derek broke out a pack of Juicy Fruit, handing it down the line. Stiles watched with heart shaped eyes. Derek had always chewed it, ever since middle school, and it was one of Stiles’ strongest sense memories associated with him, basking in the way his best friend’s gangling older step-brother had set Stiles’ tween heart thumping like a jackhammer. His sexual awakening had been a very confusing mix of Lydia and her silky red hair, Megan Fox, Optimus Prime, Hayden Christianson and Derek Hale and his luminous eyes. At fifteen, Derek had been tall and skinny with ears and teeth that were far too big and the most beautiful thing Stiles had ever seen. 

‘Stiles!’ Boyd’s deep voice broke him out of his reverie and he turned to see them all staring at him. 

‘What?’ he asked and then realised that the field was quiet too, all the Coyotes seemingly waiting for him to make an appearance. ‘Shit, sorry. I was miles away.’ 

‘Yeah, we noticed.’ Scott glowered. ‘Now go out there and hit the ball over the goddamn fence.’ 

‘Aye-aye, Captain.’ Stiles gave him a jaunty salute, switching his cap back to front and taking the batting helmet that Jackson was holding out to him. 

‘Hit it right down Theo’s throat.’ he said, blue eyes icy. Jackson was one who tended to conceal rather than feel, but Stiles could read him well enough and Jackson was angry. 

‘On it.’ He crammed the helmet on his head and went out, swinging his bat and trying to look dangerous. 

The first pitch took him by surprise, coming so close to his nose that Stiles was convinced the end had been taken off.

‘Motherfucker!’ He glared at the pitcher. ‘Alright asshole, try that again.’ He swung his bat and tried to look as threatening as possible. ‘I’m about to hit the ball right up your goddamned ass!’

‘Try it, Stilinski!’ Theo yelled from first base. ‘Everyone knows you can’t hit for shit!’

Stiles bit back his reply and narrowed his eyes at him. It was true that he wasn’t as consistent as some on the team but he had his moments of brilliance. He settled in, wriggling his ass and getting his eye on the ball. He waited for the pitch, breathing in deep and…

‘Strike two!’ The umpire was unmoved when Stiles gave him an outraged look. 

‘What the hell, man?’ He waved a hand at the pitcher. ‘It was high!’

‘It was fine.’ The umpire replied evenly. ‘Strike two.’ 

Stiles muttered. He really didn’t want to make an ass of himself in the first inning. He glanced towards the stand and saw the older Wolves all on their feet. His dad gave him a thumbs up and he felt something settle inside him. Another glance told him the current Wolves were all lined up along the fence and he dragged in a deep breath and tried to quiet his brain. This time the pitch was a curveball, but nobody hit a curveball like Stiles and his internal glee when he felt the bat connect and hit the ball in a perfect line over left field had him making an unearthly shrieking noise and hurtling for first. He ran like his ass was on fire, sliding into second and almost taking Matt down with him. He rolled to his feet, one planted firmly on the base, and stuck his tongue out at him. Matt looked like he’d swallowed glass but Stiles was indisputably safe and the umpire called it. 

‘Sucks to be you, dipshit.’ he crowed and Matt gave him the stink eye. 

Isaac was up next. He struck out twice before connecting but unfortunately the right outfielder was right under the ball and he trudged back to the dugout looking morose. Boyd patted him on the shoulder as he passed, and Stiles grinned when the pitcher gulped audibly when he saw him. Boyd was impressive, even if he had the temperament of a cuddly bear, and he swung his bat almost lazily. 

‘Ready when you are.’ he drawled and there was a ripple of laughter from the stands and one overexcited screech of ‘Kick his ass, baby!’ from Erica. Stiles spotted her at the top, the Hale sisters and Lydia with her. 

Boyd winked in her direction and settled in, a shifting of his bulk that made him look even bigger. The umpire had to peer around him as Boyd made contact with the first ball, slamming it through the air towards second base. He ran slowly, lumbering to first where Stiles sprinted to third, but the power in the hit meant it was deceptively quick and the second baseman had to scrabble after it. Boyd made it barely out of breath. He was their steadiest player, never taking chances and always happy to set things up for Derek. 

This was the part Stiles loved most of all. He held his breath and resisted the urge to bounce in excitement as Derek came out the dugout, helmet on and bat resting against his shoulder. He sauntered over, confidence oozing, and it was so sexy that Stiles could barely stand it. 

Derek was a lefty, not unusual considering he was ambidextrous. He eyed the pitcher and then a little smile crossed his face and Stiles knew that he was happy with what he saw. Derek would have been watching carefully, forensic when he played. He turned into his stance, bat tucked up under his arm and spitting once into his palms. Stiles knew his routine like he knew his own. He watched Derek rub his palms together and thought about what it would feel like to have those hands on him. Derek had big strong hands, the backs dusted with black hair that thickened into a veritable pelt on his equally strong forearms. He bit his nails and had a habit of using his index finger to push his reading glasses up his nose and now, as he wrapped them around his bat, Stiles had to push away thoughts of those thick fingers and how deep they could go. 

‘Focus.’ he muttered to himself, getting a quizzical look from the baseman. 

‘You know he can’t hear you, right?’ he asked and Stiles grinned as Derek lifted his head and looked right at him. He nodded almost imperceptibly and the pitcher threw the first ball. Derek didn’t even bother and Stiles cackled, waiting. Sure enough it came on the next pitch, the cry of ‘Strike!’ and Derek’s barely there smirk that told Stiles that he’d read the pitcher perfectly and was ready to rumble. 

The next pitch was predictable and Derek swung hard and clean, catching the ball at the perfect angle to send it flying high and far so it sailed right over everyone’s heads and the back chain link fence for a textbook home run. 

‘Motherfucker.’ The baseman breathed and Stiles took off, knowing that Boyd and Derek would be right behind him. He bounded along, making sure to hit home before breaking into a series of erratic wiggles that he liked to call his victory dance. Boyd came thudding home with Derek hot on his heels and Stiles held up a hand for both of them. 

‘Amazing!’ he crowed, giving Theo a discreet jerk off gesture behind Boy’d back and out of sight of the umpire.

‘Come on.’ Derek laughed and steered him by the shoulders towards the dugout. Behind the fence, they all got jumped on by the rest of the team as Scott went out and then flopped onto the bench. 

‘Man I enjoyed that.’ Stiles beamed at Derek, who was back next to him. He held out a fist and Derek rolled his eyes fondly and bumped it. 

The rest of the second half progressed fairly quickly, and the Wolves were up by three to two at the end of it. The three minutes went far slower when Scott was doing his thing and the number of eyerolls he was completely missing was ridiculous. 

‘So how long now?’ Stiles asked and Boyd smiled. It was soft around the edges and full of pride.

‘Couple of weeks at most.’ he replied and Stiles cackled. 

‘Then the sleepless nights begin.’ he declared. 

‘Erica’s got to get the damn kid out first.’ Jackson snorted and Boyd chuckled. 

‘We have a nos-how plan.’ he told them and Stiles raised an eyebrow. 

‘Does it involve lots of sex?’ he asked and then flailed when Derek eyeballed him. ‘What? It’s a legitimate strategy.’ 

‘No.’ Boyd was full on laughing now. ‘That’s what got us into this situation in the first place. Erica’s going to paint the bedroom if the pickle doesn’t show up on time.’

‘Pickle?’ Stiles asked Derek and he pointed down the bench to Liam, who was sulking magnificently. 

‘When they showed us the first scan, Liam said they looked like a pickle.’ he explained. 

‘Oh man.’ Stiles was delighted. ‘That’s going to stick.’

‘It already has.’ Isaac said. ‘Everyone’s calling them Pickle now.’

‘She’s also still wearing heels.’ Mason threw in from down the line. ‘That kid is going to be fierce, regardless of what it turns out to be.’

‘Have you decided who’s going to be godparents yet?’ Stiles asked and when Derek got a small pleased look on his face, he laughed. ‘Of course. Why the hell would I expect anything different.’ he leaned into him, grinning at the happiness Derek was broadcasting. ‘You’re going to be a great godfather. I can just see you now - the suit, the tie...the mumbling.’

‘Fuck off, Stiles.’ Derek said but his ears were pink, a sure sign he wasn’t offended. 

‘Godmother was tough.’ Boyd continued. ‘So we had to split the difference and go with all the Hales.’

‘Jesus.’ Stiles snickered. ‘That kid’s going to be better protected than the actual Corleones.’

‘Considering the toll booth incident, I sure hope so.’ Derek replied. 

‘He’s excited.’ Isaac leaned around Boyd, a shit eating grin on his face. ‘He’s going to be wrapped around that kids’ finger.’ 

‘It’s the first cub.’ Derek protested. ‘They’re special.’ 

‘Jesus that’s so insanely cute.’ Stiles muttered, trying to get his poor smitten heart under control. 

‘My dad’s already bought a bat and a mitt.’ Boyd said. ‘They’re going to be a player.’ 

They all looked up when the umpire called time and Stiles reached for his bat. 

‘Time to go to work.’ He winked at them all. ‘Uncle in chief has to go make some runs.’


End file.
